


Seven Days

by bohemianraspberries



Category: Haikyuu!!, Seven Days (Manga)
Genre: Drama, Fluff and Angst, Rating May Change, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohemianraspberries/pseuds/bohemianraspberries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi Keiji is notorious among the students of Fukurodani Academy for agreeing to go out with the first person who asks - and then dumping them after only seven days. Bokuto Koutarou is harbouring a crush of immense proportions and somehow manages to make himself Akaashi's date for the week. For Akaashi it's the worst idea he's ever agreed to. For Bokuto, it's pretty much a dream come true - provided everything goes to plan. Seven days is long enough to fall in love, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday AM

**Author's Note:**

> This fic basically follows the plot of Takarai Rihito's manga Seven Days, although no prior knowledge is required before reading this. (In other words, it will make sense if you haven't read Seven Days.) However, I highly recommend it because it's a really sweet story and a good read. 
> 
> There is a (tiny) bit of swearing in this chapter, so, T rating as of now. The rating will probably go up as the fic progresses. I promise I will give fair warning in the event that things get a little more mature.
> 
> I think that's everything for now... Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!!!!

“Oho!”

Bokuto doesn’t turn at the familiar voice, electing instead to stare morosely out of the train window. He’s been perfecting his moody demeanour since yesterday evening, after all, and he’s not about to let all his practice go to waste. Objectively, he thinks last night’s “rain-spattered bedroom window in dark night” was much more atmospheric than this morning’s “train window smeared with something unidentifiable and unpleasant” – but he’s doing his best.

“O _ho_?”

Still Bokuto doesn’t turn around, although it’s taking absolutely all of his concentration not to. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks Akaashi would be proud of him for exercising such focus and determination, and then somewhere else, nearer the front, reminds him he shouldn’t be thinking about how Akaashi would smile and tell him he was _really cool, Bokuto-san_ and reward him with a few amazing tosses. He should be feeling _sad_.

Bokuto sighs. Since yesterday he hasn’t felt particularly _sad_ for more than five minutes at a time, though it’s not for lack of trying. For all his brooding, though, the best he can do is simply _annoyed._

“Oi!” Kuroo smacks him lightly round the back of the head, and it’s enough to draw his focus from the (blurry, really boring) cityscape outside the train window. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“I’m mourning,” Bokuto says, smoothing his carefully styled hair where Kuroo knocked it out of place. “Can’t you tell?”

“No?” Kuroo says. “Mourning what?”

“The death of my relationship,” Bokuto replies, sniffing dramatically. Kuroo’s mouth falls open.

“You got dumped!”

“I got dumped,” he confirms, morose.

“It's not surprising,” Kenma chips in, not deigning to look up from his PSP.

“Hey!” Bokuto protests. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kenma shrugs his shoulders. “Lots of girls like you because you’re in a sports club and you’re the captain of your team, plus you go to Nationals every year. They think you’re cool.”

“Oh,” Bokuto grins, pleasantly surprised. “Thanks.”

“Then they get to know you and find out you’re loud and annoying and they get fed up,” Kenma continues. “It’s disappointing for them.”

“Oh,” Bokuto says, unpleasantly surprised.

“So, how long was it this time?” Kuroo enquires delicately. “Six days?”

“Five.”

Kuroo winces. “Rough.”

*******

Akaashi Keiji is the official setter and vice captain of Fukurodani’s volleyball team, which means that he and Bokuto have spent a fair amount of time together over the past year and a half. He is also really, really attractive. 

It’s not just that he’s _pretty_ – although he’s probably the prettiest person Bokuto’s ever laid eyes on, and that’s including all the girls he’s ever met – it’s that he’s intelligent too, and patient, and he’s the only person who’s able to bring Bokuto’s mood back up when he gets down and dejected after one too many missed spikes. Bokuto doesn’t even know what he _does_ , it’s just like his whole presence makes him feel as though the world isn’t such a terrible place. Seeing Akaashi makes his day a whole lot better, even if he can’t explain it.

Maybe that’s what his (ex-)girlfriend meant when she said, “You seem more interested in your vice captain than me.”

Maybe she was right.

Another thing about Akaashi is that he has a rather peculiar approach to dating. He’s notorious among the students of Fukurodani Academy for agreeing to go out with the first person who asks – but only for one week, and once the seven days are up he terminates the relationship with a now infamous line:

“I couldn’t fall in love with you.”

Bokuto didn’t believe it when he first heard it from Konoha, back in second year. Akaashi didn’t seem the type to date a load of girls and break up with every single one after only seven days; it sounded impossible. But then he found Akaashi behind the gym one day before practice, in the middle of dumping a girl, and discovered that the whole thing was true. Even down to the line he used.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I couldn’t fall in love with you.” 

“It’s alright, Akaashi-kun,” the girl had replied. “I understand.”

How could she? Bokuto thought. How could any of them understand? It seemed like such a weird thing to do, and though Bokuto’s sort of accepted it he still can’t get his head round it. How can all those girls be so calm and accepting in the face of rejection? But then, that’s the most mystifying thing about it – despite his heartbreaker reputation, Akaashi remains immensely popular with the girls at Fukurodani. 

It’s kind of annoying, actually. Not that Bokuto begrudges Akaashi his popularity, or anything – it just means that it’s difficult to talk to him as much outside of practice these days, and it means Akaashi wouldn’t even consider dating _him_ – something Bokuto has found himself yearning for more and more over the past year. He was able to acknowledge that Akaashi was the prettiest person he’d ever seen the minute Akaashi wandered into the gym for tryouts with a vaguely bored expression on his face, but his attraction to him has gradually become less focused on _aesthetics_ and fallen more into the category of _romantic_ , and it’s sort of a problem. It isn’t so much that he doesn’t _want_ to like Akaashi – honestly, if Akaashi is his dream date then Bokuto can pride himself on having excellent taste – it’s more that he knows he doesn’t really stand a chance. Akaashi is _so pretty_ it sometimes hurts Bokuto just to look at him, and he’s found himself getting more and more distracted, thinking about Akaashi instead of hitting a spike or receiving a ball, thinking about Akaashi’s pale skin and lithe limbs, the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly when he’s concentrating hard; about his long fingers and dark hair, and the way he doesn’t smile so often, but when he does it can light up a whole room; about Akaashi’s lips, and what it would feel like to kiss them. And then he thinks about how several people who aren’t him have already kissed Akaashi’s lips, and how several more people will kiss Akaashi in his lifetime and none of them will be Bokuto, and he starts getting dejected.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi murmurs, the fourth consecutive time Bokuto misses a spike, “what’s wrong?”

And of course, Bokuto can’t tell him, because even Bokuto isn’t _that_ stupid, so instead he thanks whatever gods are out there for his weird fortune and says truthfully, “I got dumped.”

Akaashi furrows his brow. “I’m sorry to hear that, Bokuto-san.”

“Thanks.” It’s not much in the way of consolation, but it’s nice of him to pretend to care.

“How long were you dating?” Akaashi asks.

“Five days,” Bokuto admits, feeling a big stupid – although, he concedes, he _is_ talking to Akaashi, who apparently expects to be able to fall in love after a week, so he shouldn’t really be running the risk of too much judgement. Then again, Akaashi is pretty good at judging him.

“It’s okay to feel sad, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, as though he’s reading Bokuto’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Bokuto responds, red-faced, because it’s taking a fair amount of energy to muster sadness and not nearly as much to conjure embarrassment. 

“If you need a few days to get back into the swing of things, I’m sure everyone will understand,” Akaashi continues. “Nobody would expect you to be on top form right after a break-up.”

And that’s that, that’s enough to get Bokuto back on his feet and calling for another toss, because if no one else, _he_ is expecting himself to be on top form – he can’t go letting his team down because of his pathetic love life. He looks over his shoulder and catches sight of Akaashi smiling almost imperceptibly, and he realises belatedly that his act was all a trick to pull Bokuto out of his dark mood. But he can’t bring himself to feel annoyed at Akaashi because for one thing, it worked, and for another – well, it’s _Akaashi_. Bokuto doesn’t think he could get angry at him if he tried. So he pulls himself together and lets himself be amused by his own dramatics instead of ashamed, and he doesn’t miss another spike for the entire rest of practice.

“You focused well today, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi comments as they make their way to the changing rooms. “I’m impressed.”

Bokuto beams. “I owe it all to my favourite kouhai!”

If he hadn’t turned to look in that split second, he’d have missed Akaashi’s fleeting smile. There’s a sudden glow in his chest that spreads to his arms and legs and his own smile widens into a toothy grin. Akaashi often has this effect on him, filling Bokuto with this weird warm and fuzzy sensation whenever his stoic mask cracks and he displays any hint of emotion, the subtlest sign that he’s pleased. Bokuto likes pleasing Akaashi. Bokuto probably likes pleasing Akaashi a lot more than he should, especially given that he has no chance of making him happy the way he’d _really_ like to – not with all those girls around.

And then Bokuto remembers something. 

“Hey, Akaashi.” 

Akaashi looks up. “Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“I’m not the only one who’s newly single, am I?” he asks, trying his best to come off as curious rather than creepy. 

Akaashi drops his gaze. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” He is, though. He knows, and Bokuto _knows_ he knows, and Akaashi _knows_ Bokuto knows he knows, and –

“I mean,” he says, telling his brain to shut up before he gets lost in the maze that is his own thoughts, “it’s Monday, right?”

“Correct, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi sighs, as though Bokuto is a pre-schooler learning the days of the week. “It is Monday.”

“Which _means_ …” Bokuto prompts, waggling his eyebrows. He’s hoping Akaashi might finish his sentence for him, but he seems uncharacteristically oblivious this morning, because he isn’t saying anything. Maybe he thinks Bokuto doesn’t know, or maybe he’s been seized by a sudden bout of temporary amnesia, or maybe…

Wait. No. One look at the disdainful expression painted on Akaashi’s face tells him he knows exactly what Bokuto’s getting at. He’s just refusing to play along.

Bokuto sighs dramatically. _Fine._ “What it _means_ , if I am indeed correct, and I _am_ indeed correct –”

“Bokuto-san, please get to the point.” Akaashi is staring at him, singularly unimpressed.

“Right.” Bokuto clears his throat. “No girlfriend this morning.”

“No,” Akaashi finally admits, defeated.

Bokuto’s eyes widen – he was right after all. “Nobody’s asked you yet?”

“Not yet.”

Out of nowhere, Bokuto is gripped by a terrible, awful idea. 

It is truly a terrible, honestly _god awful_ idea, and a part of Bokuto is ashamed that he’s even managed to come up with it. It’s a part Bokuto doesn’t listen to that much, though, a part that sounds a bit like Akaashi, only even more annoyingly sensible and decidedly far less pretty. So he dismisses it, tells himself it’s not _the_ worst idea he’s ever had (which is a blatant lie), tells himself it could be a lot of fun (which is probably debatable), tells himself it’s really been a long time coming (which is true).

“Y’know,” he says, leaning casually against the wall, “I don’t have a girlfriend either.”

Akaashi raises his eyebrows as he pulls his tie over his head. “I know, Bokuto-san,” he responds, nonplussed. “That’s what this whole conversation was about in the first place.”

“So, if _I_ don’t have a girlfriend… and _you_ don’t have a girlfriend…”

Akaashi’s face pales. “No.”

“We’re both technically unattached, right?”

“Bokuto-san, _no_ –”

If Akaashi were capable of panicking, Bokuto would say he looks very close to panic right now. But Bokuto’s fairly sure Akaashi is not human, because he’s far too angelic to be human, and angels don’t panic, so he makes the executive decision to steamroller on. 

“Whaddya say?” He flashes his most winning smile, though Akaashi, unfortunately, does not look particularly won over. “How about you date me this week?”

“I don't think that's such a good idea, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says weakly. Bokuto frowns.

“No fair, I know you always say yes to the person who asks first!” he points out, suddenly horribly aware that he sounds like an immensely whiny child, but unable to do anything about it. “Today, _I_ asked you first.”

He stands there with his hands on his hips, pouting, and refuses to move until Akaashi relents.

And then a miracle occurs: Akaashi huffs an impatient sigh and mutters, “ _Fine_. One week.”

Bokuto is over the moon.

This is the best idea he’s ever had.

*******

This is a terrible, awful idea. It’s probably the worst idea Bokuto’s ever had, although Akaashi can probably come up with some good contenders if he tries hard enough (the time during Golden Week training camp that Bokuto tried to organise a team-wide keepy-uppy competition using watermelons instead of footballs springs to mind; Akaashi doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many nosebleeds at once). But this is definitely the worst. 

He wants to kick himself for being so easily swayed. Bokuto’s had plenty of terrible, awful ideas in his life, and in the year and a half Akaashi’s been part of it he’s managed to put a stop to most of them. And this is _by far_ the most terrible, most awful idea Bokuto’s ever had. It’s likely going to end very awkwardly and horribly for both of them, and Akaashi knew this immediately it was brought up. Why on earth didn’t he put his foot down and say no? It’s unfathomable.

Well, actually, that’s not strictly true – it’s entirely fathomable. He likes Bokuto – _likes_ him – his captain, his teammate, his senpai. He likes watching him play, likes the way he spikes with his whole body, the way he hits the ball with such immense and sometimes terrifying power. He likes the intensity in Bokuto’s face, that intensity that only ever appears when he’s on the court, the way he’s almost frightening with that fire in his eyes because he’s so present, so focused, and Akaashi has to look away because he’s just too bright. He likes Bokuto’s arms, and his goofy, ever-present smile, and the way he’s relaxed and cheerful around anyone and everyone in a way Akaashi could only ever dream of being. He likes his stupid kneepads, his ridiculous hair.

He likes Bokuto so much he could cry.

It’s ridiculous really, dating other people while he’s harbouring a crush of such intense proportions. He feels a tad guilty about it, but he knows the people he goes out with are well aware of the way his dating game works – and for most of them it _is_ just a game, he knows they see him almost like a walking dating sim. For him, though, it’s not so much a game, really, as a distraction technique, a desperate attempt to free himself of the shackles he’s got caught up in. He doesn’t know why he still does it, but somehow he hasn’t yet lost faith; some part of him truly believes that if he can find someone so enthralling, so captivating that he falls for them over the course of just seven days, he might finally be able to stop thinking about Bokuto.

He might finally be able to stop thinking about his sister’s girlfriend too.

Her name is Misaki, and she and Juri have been dating on and off for almost three years. He was thirteen the first time they were introduced, and fourteen the first time she kissed him.

The first time Misaki and Juri broke up was because of Akaashi. 

He still feels guilty about it, and he doubts he’ll ever be able to forgive himself. He doubts his sister will ever fully forgive him either, despite what she says about the past being the past and how they’ve all grown as people since then, since she caught them kissing on Akaashi’s bed two years ago. Still, she hasn’t set foot in Akaashi’s room since.

He tries to blame Misaki for everything, and he is still angry at her – her carefree attitude, the way it doesn’t seem to matter to her that she tore up what once was an honest and trusting bond between siblings – but as much as he hates her now he can’t forget that he too had a hand in destroying both of their relationships with Juri; it took two to break his sister’s heart. It’s his own fault that she sometimes looks at him with coldness in her eyes, that she doesn’t talk to him as much anymore, that she can’t stand to be around him when Misaki is there. Maybe he was far too young and maybe he didn’t know any better, but it doesn’t change the fact that he fucked up irrevocably.

He lives in fear of the day Bokuto finds out, of the moment Bokuto stops trusting him and starts seeing him as somebody else, somebody who can’t control his emotions, who is selfish and uncaring and will trample on those he’s closest to if it means getting his way. He’s tried so hard to repair himself, to stop up the gaps in his empathy, to tread lightly and help others, but he’s well aware that people view you differently once they know your biggest secret. He won’t be Bokuto’s best friend anymore – he’ll be someone who deliberately hurt a person he loved by doing something Bokuto wouldn’t even consider.

And he’s about to do it again – even if it is at Bokuto’s request.

*******

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
You will never guess!!!!!!!!! ヾ(ﾟ∀ﾟ○)ﾂ三ヾ(●ﾟ∀ﾟ)ﾉ

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
What????

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Guess!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ σ(≧ε≦ｏ) o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
(;¬_¬)

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Just tell me???

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ I’M DATING AKAASHI!!!!!!!!!!!! ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
WHAT

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
(●♡∀♡) ヾ(◍’౪`◍)ﾉﾞ♡（*´▽｀*）

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Oh no

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I’m so in love

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
HOW did this happen??????

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
IKR it’s just like a fairy tale!!!!!!!!! (´ ▽｀).。ｏ♡

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
No I mean HOW did Akaashi LET this happen???

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Rude (눈_눈)

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
You know it’s just seven days right???

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
You sure ur okay with that?

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Of course!!!!!!! (●ゝ∀･)ﾉ

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
As in, it’ll be OVER in SEVEN DAYS

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
And don’t expect anything

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
ఠ_ఠ meaning??????

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Like don’t expect kissing or anything. He won’t even touch you unless it’s absolutely necessary

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
WHAAAT???????? how do u know????????

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
idk I’ve heard a lot of ppl talk about it.. 

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
And it’s true in my experience

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
YOUR EXPERIENCE?????????????????????

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I dated him for a week last year

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
WHAT

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
YOU WHAT

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
━Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||)━

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
∴(O艸O★) 

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Calm down

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
you DATED AKAASHI

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
HOW DID I NEVER HEAR ABOUT THIS

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
idk it just never came up???

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
NEVER CAME UP??????

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Stop yelling

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
oh my god calm down

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
look it never meant anything okay?????

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
For crying out loud it never means anything with Akaashi because he expects to fall in love in a week ffs

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
That’s why it’s such a bad idea for YOU to date him

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
It’s gonna mean something this time

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
What??????

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I’m gonna make him fall in love with me

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Bokuto no

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
You have to break this thing off right now

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
No WAY

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
You’re gonna get hurt

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
seriously

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Please just think about this for one second

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I AM thinking about it

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I have a plan

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
What plan???????????

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I’m gonna charm Akaashi into falling in love with me Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
that’s ur plan????? oh my god I can’t believe you don’t see how fucking stupid that is

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
g2g I’m meeting Akaashi for lunch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
BOKUTO WAIT

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
BYE ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

Kuroo groans and slams his head against Kenma’s desk. Kenma doesn’t even look up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bokuto’s dating Akaashi.”

“I hope you told him not to.”

Kuroo raises his head and shoots Kenma a longsuffering glance. “He doesn’t listen. Ever. I told him it was the stupidest fucking idea I’d ever heard –”

Kenma pats him absent-mindedly on the head. “There, there.”

“I thought better of Akaashi. He _knows_ it’s going to ruin everything.” He sighs. “That’s why you don’t date your friends.”

Kenma does look up this time – actually pauses his game to regard Kuroo with curious eyes. “What about me?”

Kuroo grins, resting his chin in his hands and gazing at Kenma from across the desk. “Yeah, well. You’re special.”

Kenma returns his smile. “You too.”


	2. Monday PM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third possibility – and this is the one that scares him the most – is that Bokuto genuinely likes him and genuinely wants to date him. Perhaps he even genuinely hopes Akaashi will fall in love with him. It’s a terrifying prospect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is a lot shorter than the first!! Writing is hard... OTL I'm gonna try hard to update regularly, though, I promise!
> 
> maybe a slight warning for emetophobia in this chapter?? there is a _very_ brief mention of throwing up, sort of. also like, one swear. but that's it.

Akaashi doesn’t know why he agreed to this. In any ordinary situation it would be obvious – Bokuto asked him out, he likes Bokuto, therefore he said yes – but the reality is far more complex, and frankly he’s confounded by his own stupidity. What was he _thinking_ , putting their friendship at risk? He never normally gets so tied up in knots about the person he’s dating, because unless he really, truly falls head-over-heels in love with them (it’s never happened) he doesn’t ever have to see them once the week is up. But Bokuto is an entirely different story – Bokuto is the captain of the team Akaashi plays on, he sees him on a daily basis, and if he’s honest (and this is arguably the most worrying detail of the whole affair) Bokuto’s sort of his only friend. He gets on with the rest of his team, for sure, but Bokuto’s the only one whose house he’s been to, the only one who voluntarily spends time with him outside of practice. And now Akaashi might lose that too.

When he thinks it over, he isn’t even sure why Bokuto asked him out in the first place, unless it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Akaashi considers that possibility, considers the fact Bokuto just got dumped, and concedes that it’s conceivable, if not likely, that he’s on the rebound; perhaps he’s just looking to prolong the state of being in a relationship, even if it’s not with the person he wants to be with – certainly, he was in a pretty low mood the whole morning until Akaashi agreed to go out with him. But then, Akaashi thinks, he barely talked about his girlfriend while they _were_ dating – once, maybe – and he doesn’t think Bokuto ever even mentioned her name. So, whatever Bokuto’s motivation for this is, he doubts it has anything to do with his ex-girlfriend.

Of course, Bokuto could simply be messing around. Perhaps he heard about Akaashi’s (admittedly weird) approach to dating from Konoha, or Kuroo – it’s not really a secret, after all – and decided he wanted to try it out. He has an inkling that most of the people he dates don’t really take the whole thing seriously, and he knows Komi calls him “rent-a-boyfriend” behind his back. It doesn’t bother him that much, although he supposes it should – but Komi has a point. The first girl he dated (and dumped) after Misaki told him, “Please don’t worry about me, Akaashi-kun, I’m not upset. Seven days were long enough for a dream.”

_Seven days were long enough for a dream._ It wasn’t enough to fall in love, for either of them.

The third possibility – and this is the one that scares him the most – is that Bokuto genuinely likes him and genuinely wants to date him. Perhaps he even genuinely hopes Akaashi will fall in love with him. It’s a terrifying prospect, because they have so much to lose. If Bokuto doesn’t see him that way he can still pass everything off as his little routine, playing the role of the perfect boyfriend without any intent, and Bokuto never has to know the truth. Akaashi can hide his own emotions well enough. But if Bokuto does like him, if Bokuto gets _hurt_ , it could be disastrous. What if they never speak again? What if one of them leaves the team? What if that person is Bokuto, their ace?

The trouble is, Akaashi thinks that if he’s left alone with him for seven days, he might actually fall for Bokuto, hard, and that would be completely unacceptable for many reasons. It’s unacceptable firstly because they are senpai and kouhai, and though he’s aware there are plenty of first and second years in relationships with students older than themselves, the thought of bridging the disconnect between “person you highly respect and are also slightly afraid of” and “person you love and trust more than anything else in the world, who also happens to know the most private and embarrassing details of your inner self” is more than a little nerve-wracking. Besides, he gets enough hassle from his team about his romantic exploits and he doesn’t wish to drag Bokuto into that, if only because he’d probably encourage it. 

Mainly, though, he doesn’t want a proper relationship with Bokuto because he knows full well that he’d never be able to give Bokuto what he wants, not fully – because he knows he’d only end up hurting him. Because he knows, even if he hates to admit it, that he can’t keep away from Misaki.

*******

Akaashi is always first out of the showers and dressed after practice, but he invariably hangs around, half-bored, and waits for Bokuto to finish getting ready (an elaborate and time-consuming routine which involves painstakingly restyling his hair), and unless he is busy with a date that week they tend to go over to Bokuto’s house and study together or play Mario Kart (Bokuto is surprisingly good on Rainbow Road, and likes to show off). 

Today is different, though; today he’s far more nervous than he’s ever been around Bokuto. Today, he made the second biggest mistake of his life and he’s about to reap the grim rewards. Today, Bokuto says, “Let’s go on a date!”

Akaashi cringes. Why does he have to be so enthusiastic about everything – especially _this?_ It’s as if he’s being subjected to his own personal hell, some kind of belated and twisted punishment for betraying his sister – or perhaps for overstepping the boundaries between senpai and kouhai, boundaries he feels were put in place for very good reason: to prevent things like _this_ from happening.

“Where to?” he asks, feeling a little queasy. 

“Anywhere!” Bokuto grins. “Oh, how about we go for ramen?”

“Bokuto-san…”

“What?” His lack of enthusiasm is clearly showing; Bokuto is bending down, peering at him, trying to discern what’s wrong. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine, Bokuto-san.”

“Do you not like ramen?”

Akaashi sighs. He can’t possibly reveal what’s playing on his mind – how could he? Bokuto would take it personally, think his reluctance is because he doesn’t like him, when the truth is he likes him _too much_. He shouldn’t have let himself get caught up, should have broken his own stupid rule for once, or lied. But he didn’t see where Bokuto was going with it until he asked, actually _asked_ to date Akaashi, and although he knew at the time it was a terrible idea he was flattered that Bokuto even wanted to go out with him. 

He should never have said yes. They are walking a dangerous tightrope, running the risk of ruining their friendship for good, and now that Akaashi is caught in this bind his only hope – ironically – is that Bokuto doesn’t feel the same way he does, that he’s only doing this for the “experience” and that, like everybody else, he’s just trying to live out some weird shoujo fantasy. That’s all it is, Akaashi tells himself stubbornly, and if that’s all it is, then Bokuto doesn’t have to know anything about how _he_ feels. All Akaashi has to do is be a decent and attentive boyfriend, and if there’s one thing he can do it’s that. 

He takes a deep breath. “Ramen is… fine.”

Bokuto looks delighted. Akaashi’s stomach starts doing little backflips. 

“Cool! I found this great little place last week with Kuroo –”

Akaashi lets him ramble on about ramen and volleyball and the cute stray cat that has started greeting him every morning on his way to the train station, and tries hard to secure in his mind a picture of Bokuto’s face and the way his eyes light up when he gets excited, just in case he never gets to see it again after Sunday.

*******

“You’ve been really quiet, Akaashi,” Bokuto comments as they leave the restaurant.

“Have I?” Akaashi says lightly. He shrugs it off before Bokuto can get too concerned, and adds, “I just like listening to you talk.”

It’s true, he does like listening to Bokuto waffling about anything and everything, but the grin on Bokuto’s face makes him wish he hadn’t said anything. He’s in too deep, far too deep, but for both of their sakes he really doesn’t want Bokuto to get any ideas about what this week might be like. Luckily, however, Bokuto is Bokuto, and whatever train of thought he might have been on gets derailed when he catches sight of a billboard.

“I’ve wanted to see this for ages!” he cries, gazing up at the poster – an advert for some new, probably terrible horror movie that has managed to slip under Akaashi’s radar. Suddenly inspired, Bokuto grabs his wrist and starts pulling him along in the direction of the nearest cinema. “Let’s watch it now!”

Akaashi meekly complies. 

The movie really is terrible, with the added bonus of being so completely unwatchable it’s _almost_ amusing, and he ends up staring blankly at the screen, entertaining himself by considering all the possible ways everything could go horribly wrong this week – culminating in the idea of him being kicked off the volleyball team and having to explain to his mother why he isn’t attending club activities anymore – when he feels a warm weight pressing against his shoulder.

Bokuto has fallen asleep on him.

It’s… actually not that bad. He’s drooling all over Akaashi’s shirt and although it’s kind of gross, Akaashi doesn’t really mind that much because he looks kind of _sweet._ It’s strange to see a boy who’s usually bouncing off the walls look so peaceful, and despite his misgivings about the coming week Akaashi enjoys watching him, his steady breathing, the way his fingers twitch just slightly – maybe he’s dreaming about something – the rare quiet. The cinema is nearly empty, and it almost feels as though it’s just the two of them. It almost feels like any ordinary date, like they’re two ordinary people in an ordinary situation. Like one of them isn’t inexplicably fucked in the head.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He doesn’t need to read the caller ID to know who’s on the other end of the line. He glances briefly to his right, but Bokuto doesn’t stir, and so Akaashi decides to risk it, pressing the “accept” button and putting the phone to his ear.

“Misaki?”

She’s crying, sobbing something incoherent down the phone at him. It takes him a good five minutes to calm her down and actually find out what the matter is.

“Misaki, what’s wrong?”

“She dumped me!”

He frowns. “Juri?”

_“Obviously,”_ Misaki snaps, although the sharpness in her tone is cut by a bout of sniffling. “Who else?”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi replies coolly. “You tell me.”

Misaki ignores his jibe. “I don’t even know what I did, she won’t even talk to me! Kei-chan –”

“Are you sure you don’t know what you did?” 

“Kei-chan.” She sounds annoyed, and he can picture her eyes narrowing and her mouth settling into a familiar pout. Something, warm amusement, floods through him. 

“Maybe you should just apologise.”

“I told you, I don’t know what I did. How am I supposed to apologise for something I didn’t do?”

“You didn’t say you _hadn’t_ done anything,” Akaashi mutters.

_“Kei-chan.”_ She groans. “Will you talk to her? Please?”

Akaashi swallows. “I don’t think so.”

“Kei-chan, please. I’m begging you,” Misaki whines. “You don’t want me to be unhappy do you?” And then she plays her trump card, and all at once she has him toppling, crumbling, his resolve weakened to nothing; he already knows what his answer will be. “If you loved me, you’d do it.”

He closes his eyes. He hates her.

He _despises_ her.

He loves her.

“Fine.” He opens his eyes but his stomach is churning, the thought of getting tangled up in Misaki’s affairs once again making him want to throw up. “I’ll talk to her.”

She brightens instantly. “Yes! Thank you, Kei-chan! I knew there was I reason I loved you.”

Akaashi can’t breathe. He is slowly suffocating. 

“Akaashi?” 

He jumps, almost scrambling right out of his seat at the soft sound of Bokuto’s voice. “Bokuto-san! You’re awake.”

_“Bokuto-san?”_

Bokuto rubs his eyes, frowns when he catches sight of Akaashi’s mobile. “Who’re you talking to?”

“Kei-chan, don’t tell me you’re on a date!”

“I have to go,” he snaps, promptly ending the call.

Bokuto is staring at him, curiosity colouring his features, as he pockets his phone. “Who was that?”

“My mum,” Akaashi says quickly, praying that Bokuto is too tired and inattentive to see through the lie. 

Bokuto raises an eyebrow. “Your mum calls you ‘Kei-chan’?”

Akaashi blinks. “Yes.”

“Cute,” Bokuto laughs, and Akaashi tries not to think about how Bokuto just called him _cute_. Bokuto yawns and stretches, looking around the empty cinema and glancing at the darkened screen. “It finished.”

“Yeah. The little girl was the murderer after all.”

“Ha! Called it,” Bokuto says.

“The ghost was possessing her so it could take revenge on the people who wronged it,” Akaashi adds.

Bokuto frowns. “The ghost was the murderer then. The girl was just a vessel.”

“She summoned it in the first place,” Akaashi shrugs. “Technically she was an accomplice.”

“Yeah, but she wouldn’t have done all that stuff without it. And she was like, what – eleven? So actually –”

“Bokuto-san, you didn’t see half the movie,” Akaashi reminds him.

“I saw the _first_ half!” Bokuto protests. “And the _first_ half is always the most important –”

Akaashi shrugs again. “Whatever,” he says. “It’s just a movie.”

At the back of his mind he’s still thinking about Misaki, wondering what the hell he’s going to say to his sister when he gets home, wishing he were anyone else in the world – when Bokuto interrupts his train of thought with a gentle, “Akaashi?”

He blinks. “Hm?”

“I just asked if you had a good time tonight,” Bokuto says. He rubs at his neck – a self-conscious gesture, Akaashi knows, but Bokuto’s valiantly trying to hide his sudden shyness, so he doesn’t comment. “You, um, didn’t reply.”

Akaashi takes a deep breath, and plasters on a smile. “I had a really good time tonight, Bokuto-san,” he says.

Bokuto’s face lights up, and Akaashi wants to die.


	3. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi can imagine all too well the look of betrayal that would cross Bokuto’s face if he knew the real reason he goes through this weekly charade – and besides, he can barely look his own reflection in the eye these days. How could he face his captain ever again, knowing what he thought of him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from behind curtain* So, uh... it's been a while! I'm so sorry to anyone who was/still is actually interested in this fic - I have no excuse other than, "I've been soooooooooo busy!!!" It turns out university gets really tough in your second year OTL I'm definitely going to be updating more regularly from now on though!!!!
> 
> There's a little bit of swearing (*side eyes Kuroo*) in this chapter but nothing else of note. It's also really long, so hopefully that will make up for me disappearing off the face of the earth a little bit.
> 
> Enjoy!

_“Kei-chan..."_

_Akaashi is dreaming. He must be dreaming, he must have dozed off as he sprawled on his bed, flipping through an old issue of the cookery magazine his mother subscribes to, because a pretty girl with shining golden hair and shell-pink lips is leaning over him, and the only girl he knows with shining golden hair and shell-pink lips is not interested in him – why would she be? She is beautiful, straight out of the book he’s reading on medieval European folklore, and he is a scrawny, pale fourteen-year-old boy who only joined his middle school’s volleyball club this year because his parents have repeatedly expressed concerns over his complete lack of a social circle._

_“Kei-chan.”_

She isn’t real, _Akaashi tells himself – he must have dreamt her up, recreated her from memory, brought her back so he can look at her again because covert glances over the kitchen table aren’t enough, because when she catches his eye and smiles and he feels himself going red she looks so amused, so indulgent, that he wants to die. She can’t be real, Akaashi tells himself, because if she were real she wouldn’t be here – she’d be in Juri’s room, with Juri._

_“Kei-chan, don’t ignore me!”_

_“My name isn’t Kei-chan,” he mutters, and she laughs. The sound is sweet and light and unsettling._

_“You like me, don’t you, Kei-chan?”_

_He stiffens._ Really? _Does she have to be so cruel? She knows (doesn’t she?) –_ knows _he finds it impossible to stop thinking about her, and it’s mortifying enough that he feels a blush creeping up his neck, staining his cheeks crimson, and that’s enough to draw another laugh from her. It sounds cold now, cruel._

_“It’s okay.” She’s perched on the edge of the bed, her hips mere centimetres away from his own torso, and it’s all he can do to collect himself, to keep calm as she pries the magazine from his unresisting fingers and lets it fall to the floor, instantly forgotten. “I like you too.”_

_Akaashi’s heart is hammering in his chest. He can hear the blood thundering in his ears. He swallows._

_“You know,” he murmurs, resisting the urge to look up at her, “if my sister saw us like this, she’d certainly get the wrong idea.”_

_“Wrong idea?” She sounds puzzled; she puts a cool hand under his chin and tilts it up, forcing him to look at her, smiles. “On the contrary, Kei-chan. I think she’d get entirely the right idea.”_

_She leans down and presses her mouth to his._

_Akaashi is not dreaming._

_Her lips are soft; they taste like the strawberry gloss she wears all the time. Her hair, shining and golden, tumbles over her shoulder and brushes Akaashi’s cheek. His mouth falls open in surprise when he feels her lick gently at his lips; suddenly her tongue is pressing against his own, their breath mingling, strange and intoxicating. He’s breathing fast and short like he’s just run ten laps of the gym, and he feels utterly weightless. Heat pools in his stomach and his hands come up to grasp at the fabric of Misaki’s shirt, clutching, tugging, desperate for more. She laughs into his mouth, her hand cupping his face, and when she pulls back and smiles, Akaashi thinks his heart stops beating. She’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. She’s –_

_He freezes._

She’s my sister’s girlfriend.

_“We shouldn’t –” he mutters, scrambling upright. “We shouldn’t do this.”_

_Misaki raises an eyebrow. “And why not?”_

_“Why not?” Akaashi echoes, incredulous. “What if Juri finds out?”_

_“She’s not going to.”_

_“But –”_

_Misaki rolls her eyes. “Kei-chan. Do you like me or not?”_

_A single word falls from his lips, unpermitted. “Yes.”_

_“Then kiss me again.”_

_He obeys._

*******

His phone is ringing. 

He groans and rolls over, pressing a pillow over his ears, but the noise continues, loud and persistent. He knows that ringtone – he has a special one set – and he’s almost tempted to let it ring out without picking up. In the end, he can’t quite bring himself to. He answers the call and presses the phone to his ear, smiling in spite of himself as the voice at the other end of the line rambles incessantly.

“Bokuto-san,” he interrupts sleepily after a few minutes, and the line goes quiet, “you’re far too lively for this time in the morning.”

“You sound really tired, Akaashi,” Bokuto says.

“Yeah,” Akaashi responds easily, sitting up. “Someone woke me up.”

“Who?”

“You, Bokuto-san.”

“Oh. Sorry, Akaashi,” Bokuto replies, not sounding at all sorry. There’s a smile in his voice, something fond, and in the quiet half-awakeness of early morning it makes Akaashi feel warm and comfortable. “You sound really cute when you’re sleepy.”

Akaashi pulls a face, though Bokuto can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Hey! I’m your boyfriend, I’m allowed to say gross stuff, aren’t I?”

Akaashi hesitates. Neither of them have brought up yesterday, and they haven’t said the _b_ -word either – Akaashi doesn’t like to encourage that kind of thing, at least until he’s sure about someone, and he’s never been sure about anyone yet. But then, Bokuto isn’t technically wrong. They are boyfriends, he supposes, at least for now.

“I guess,” he says finally.

“Does that mean I get to call you ‘Keiji’?”

“No way.”

“What about ‘Kei-chan’?” Bokuto teases.

Akaashi freezes.

“Go back to sleep, Bokuto-san,” he snaps. “It’s way too early for this.” It comes out harsher than he intended, and he instantly feels guilty. It’s worse when Bokuto’s voice falters on the other end of the line.

“I’m really sorry, Akaashi, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable – I think it’s a really cute nickname but if you don’t – if you’re not comfortable –” he babbles, and Akaashi sighs and shifts and mutters, “Bokuto-san, stop.”

Bokuto goes quiet.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” Akaashi says. “I’m just tired.”

“Sorry I woke you up, Akaashi.”

“Don’t be. I like talking – with you.” And it’s true, he does – for all Bokuto’s loud and unmanageable and childlike he’s also incredibly passionate when it comes to the things he loves; it’s a rarity, finding someone who’s so enthusiastic about one thing as Bokuto is about absolutely everything, and it’s refreshing, when he’s not busy ushering him away from terrified first years at training camps or worrying about his imminent mood swings, to listen to him talk about what he likes. 

“Hey,” he says, suddenly struck by an idea, “what train station do you get off at, for school?”

“Shinjuku-sanchome,” Bokuto replies. “Why?”

“I just wondered. I know you get the metro with Kuroo-san every morning but I never thought to ask.”

There’s a short pause, then Bokuto says, “About Kuroo...”

“What about him?”

“You went out with him, right? Last year.”

“Yes,” Akaashi says, cautious.

“He said – something.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bokuto says quickly. Akaashi sighs.

“Bokuto-san.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Bokuto sounds oddly guilty, and Akaashi has to wonder for a moment what Kuroo’s been saying about him. Nothing bad, he hopes – though he can be frivolous sometimes and often encourages Bokuto’s whims, he’s a strong leader and an excellent volleyball player, and Akaashi admires him greatly (and fears him slightly too). He’s also Bokuto’s best friend, which Akaashi supposes makes the situation a little more complicated. Perhaps that’s what’s playing on his mind.

“Bokuto-san, we dated for a week and neither of us was particularly devastated by the break-up,” he says quietly. “We both had other people on our minds.”

He regrets the words as soon as he hears them out loud.

“Other people?” Bokuto asks, instantly alert. “What does that mean?”

“Kuroo-san was very obviously in love with Kenma-kun at the time,” he responds smoothly, suddenly very glad he’s perfected the art of masking sheer panic with a cool façade. “That’s all.”

“You said you both had other people,” Bokuto protests. “Who was yours?”

“Bokuto-san –”

“Tell me, please, Akaashi.”

“I don’t discuss my previous relationships with anyone,” he says firmly.

Bokuto groans. “Why not?”

“I have to go,” Akaashi replies, ending the call and slumping back on to his pillows, berating himself for letting slip the one detail about himself he’s actively tried to keep hidden – from Bokuto especially. It’d be mortifying and painful if anyone ever found out, but he’d be lying if he said Bokuto wasn’t a special case, of sorts. He’s fragile, much more so than he looks, and they’re together now – if potentially only for a few more days. Akaashi can imagine all too well the look of betrayal that would cross Bokuto’s face if he knew the real reason he goes through this weekly charade – if he knew Akaashi keeps in contact with his ex (or rather, his ex keeps in contact with him), his _own sister’s ex-girlfriend_ , no less – and besides, he can barely look his own reflection in the eye these days. How could he face his captain ever again, knowing what he thought of him?

But he can’t brood forever, he supposes, yawning and scrubbing a hand through his already-messy hair. He can only get dressed and hope that by the time they meet, Bokuto will have forgotten about their conversation entirely.

*******

“And _then_ he asked which station I got off at, but he didn’t really say why, he just said he was curious. What does that even mean?”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “What, curious?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t know what the word curious means.” Kuroo is doing a remarkable job of keeping his face straight, but the gleam in his eyes says he’s about three seconds away from laughing. Behind him, Kenma is staring judgementally over the top of his PSP. 

“Obviously I know what the word means,” Bokuto says, punching Kuroo on the shoulder.

“You sure about that?” Kuroo grins.

“I know what it means,” Bokuto protests, narrowing his eyes. “But what does it mean when Akaashi says it?”

“Probably the same as when other people say it?” Kuroo suggests. “Unless Akaashi has his own secret language that nobody knows about?”

Bokuto goes to punch him again, but this time Kuroo is quick enough to dodge and he almost ends up whacking a middle-aged businessman in the temple. There’s a small scuffle, accompanied by a slightly heated exchange, and by the time Kuroo’s stopped laughing and Bokuto’s finished bowing and scraping, the tinny voice coming over the tannoy is announcing their arrival at Shinjuku-sanchome. 

“Hey,” Kuroo says, lightly tapping Kenma, who has gone back to his game, and waiting for him to move before following him off the train. Bokuto watches them, and it occurs to him that most people don’t see this side of Kuroo – the caring side, the Kuroo who looks out for his friends, who adores Kenma more than anything in the world. He feels something tugging in his chest, and he thinks about Akaashi, about what he said on the phone: _“We both had other people on our minds.”_ About who that might be, whether Akaashi could ever see him in the same way. He told Kuroo he’d make Akaashi fall for him, but a part of him has already begun to think it’s hopeless – perhaps he’ll never be anything more than the (admittedly cool) senpai Akaashi has to keep in check. 

Then again, isn’t he always telling his teammates to try and try again? Isn’t this sort of the same thing – just a matter of perseverance?

His phone rings, loud, startling an elderly woman passing by, and Bokuto has to apologise for the second time in one morning. He’s even more surprised when he sees who’s calling him.

“Akaashi?”

“Bokuto-san, look to your left.”

Bokuto looks over to his left – and almost drops his phone when he spots Akaashi leaning casually against one of the ticket barriers. He gives a little wave when Bokuto meets his eye and Bokuto’s suddenly struck by how pretty he is like this, sleep-rumpled and half-awake – except _pretty_ doesn’t seem an adequate word for the way Akaashi looks in his slightly messy uniform, a small smile on his lips and one pale hand running through the shock of dark hair on his head. It’s kind of hard to believe he’s real. He looks sleep-deprived, almost thrown together, and Bokuto would be concerned if he wasn’t trying to comprehend that this is all for _him._

He almost doesn’t notice the gaggle of girls fluttering round Akaashi. Not that this is particularly surprising – he knows Akaashi’s popular, knows half the girls at Fukurodani would sell their souls to date him – but for some reason he feels particularly annoyed by them today. He chalks it up to the fact that they’re blocking his path.

Akaashi isn’t looking at the girls, though, desperate as they are to get his attention – he’s looking at Bokuto, and he’s still smiling, and there’s a wonderful warmth in his expression, a kind of fondness Bokuto doesn’t think he’s ever seen before on Akaashi’s face. It’s like he’s forgotten himself, forgotten they’re in public, forgotten everything except Bokuto.

“Hey,” he says, and Bokuto just about melts into the floor.

“H-Hey,” he chokes out, because he feels like he’s near lost the ability to think, or even breathe, and his legs have turned to jelly and all of a sudden making Akaashi fall in love with him doesn’t seem like such a stupid idea after all. “This is – a surprise.”

Akaashi shrugs, like it’s nothing. “People value spontaneity, don’t they?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Bokuto wants to kiss him, right here, in front of all these people, and for a moment he almost works up the nerve – but then he remembers what Kuroo said, that Akaashi doesn’t kiss anybody, let alone boys on the same volleyball team.

“Akaashi-kun!” One of the girls crowding around them (Bokuto doesn’t recognise her, thinks she’s probably a second year) taps Akaashi’s elbow to get his attention. Akaashi looks down at her, his face arranged in a pleasantly receptive expression, but Bokuto notes with a weird kind of satisfaction that he’s not actually _smiling_. “You never told us who your date is this week!”

“Oh.” Akaashi’s face falls, but a moment later he regains his calm demeanour. “Sumida-san, you know I don’t –”

“That would be me,” Bokuto announces, grinning and puffing his chest out, and the girls around him gape in astonishment – before bursting out laughing.

_“Bokuto-senpai!”_

“You shouldn’t say such things, Bokuto-san!”

“Imagine – you and Akaashi-kun! Oh, but you do suit each other.”

“Thanks,” Bokuto mutters, nonplussed. Is it really so hard for them to picture the two of them together? Is it really that funny? Perhaps he should have seen it coming; he knows deep down Akaashi’s way out of his league, so in hindsight it’s hardly surprising that they find the idea so ridiculous. Akaashi isn’t looking at him, blushing furiously and staring hard at the ground. _Maybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with me_ , Bokuto thinks. _Maybe seven days isn’t long enough at all._

There’s some very loud throat clearing from behind him and the girls shrink back, their eyes full of fear. Bokuto’s startled when he whirls round to see Kuroo because in all honesty he’d sort of forgotten Kuroo was there, or even, actually, existed. He doesn’t look too impressed either, his eyebrows shooting up so far they all but disappear into his hairline, his mouth twisted into a disdainful smirk.

“Morning, Akaashi,” he says. “What’s all this?”

Akaashi dips into a weirdly stiff bow. “Kuroo-san,” he replies. “I was just –”

“Akaashi came to surprise me!” Bokuto interrupts, beaming, before he can get any further. He looks to Akaashi for confirmation. “Right?”

“Right.” Akaashi nods. “I thought we could walk to school together. We are friends, after all,” he adds, turning to Kuroo a little defiantly.

“How lovely. We can all walk together,” Kuroo responds, and something about his tone rubs Bokuto up the wrong way. He frowns; the way Kuroo talks to Akaashi… there’s no respect there, and he sounds almost angry, but why? Because he’s dating Bokuto? Why would Kuroo care about that? Unless –

_Oh god_ , he thinks. _Kuroo’s in love with Akaashi._

“Bokuto, walk with me,” Kuroo says, and he turns on his heel and makes swiftly for the exit without even waiting for Kenma to go first. Bokuto follows, hurrying to catch up with him.

“Listen,” he says, quietly as possible, once they’re in step, “I’m not gonna judge but if you like someone else you should really tell Kenma, because –”

Kuroo stops. “What are you on about?”

“You’re in love with Akaashi, right?” Bokuto demands, trying not to sound jealous, and failing.

Kuroo looks horrified. “No?” he says. “Why the hell would _I_ be in love with Akaashi? _You’re_ in love with Akaashi!”

“Yeah, I know,” Bokuto says. “But you sounded really mad when you spoke to him. I figured it’s because we’re dating and I figured there’s only one reason you could be mad about _that_ –”

“Oh my god.” Kuroo groans and covers his face with his hands. “Bokuto, I love you, but you can be fucking dense sometimes.”

“Um,” says Bokuto.

Kuroo drops his hands and glances behind them. “C’mon, they’re catching up,” he mutters, setting off again and dragging Bokuto along with him. “It’s _you_ I care about, dickhead. To be honest, I don’t give a crap about Akaashi.”

“Hey!” Bokuto protests, annoyed. Kuroo sighs and shakes his head.

“No, look, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t hate him or anything, I just – don’t think it’s right, what he’s doing.”

Bokuto frowns. “What he’s doing?”

“This.” Kuroo waves a hand vaguely. “Dating you for seven days – and then what? He’s gonna just forget everything and pretend it never happened? And _don’t_ act like you’ll be fine,” he adds, when Bokuto tries to interrupt. “I know you, you get way too into things. You’re gonna get seriously hurt.”

“I told you, I’m gonna make him fall for me,” Bokuto tells him earnestly, but Kuroo just shakes his head again.

“I don’t think…” He sighs. “I’ve never understood why he does it. Seven days… it’s not enough.”

Bokuto frowns. “You don’t know that,” he says, but the words sound hollow in his own ears.

*******

**From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Date night???  
Hey Kenma wants to go check out this new arcade in Ikebukuro. You wanna come with???

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
YES

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
CAN I BRING AKAASHI

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
PRETTY PLEASE 

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
◎▼◎

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Obviously

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Only if u never send me that kaomoji again though

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
◎▼◎ ◎▼◎ ◎▼◎

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
I’m retracting my offer

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
NO

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
You’re both uninvited

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
NO PLEASE ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Oh my god ur such a baby

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Calm down I was kidding

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Akaashi is still invited

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
(´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Omg give it a rest

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
You are OBVIOUSLY ALSO INVITED

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Ｏ(≧▽≦)ＯＯ(≧▽≦)ＯＯ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
We’ll meet at seven outside Yotsuya?? And get the metro to Ikebukuro

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
OKAY (*▼o▼*)ノ

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Oh my god where did you even find that one

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Actually don’t answer that

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Found it on the internet!!!!! (*▼o▼*)ノ

 **From:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
Goodbye Bokuto

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Kuroo Tetsurou  
**Subject:** Re: Date night???  
BYE

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** HEY HEY HEY  
AKAASHI!!!!!!!!!!

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Bokuto-san, aren’t you supposed to be in class?

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
STUDY PERIOD

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Then shouldn’t you be studying?

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
I WILL

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
IN A MINUTE

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
BUT FIRST

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
DO YOU WANT TO GO ON A DOUBLE DATE (*･▽･*)

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
A double date?

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
YEAH (*▼▽▼*)

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
With whom?

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Kuroo and Kenma!!!!!!!

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Ah.

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
do u want to?????

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Akaashi?????????

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Of course, Bokuto-san.

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
AWESOME!!!!!!ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪♬

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
we’re getting the metro from yotsuya at seven

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
but i can pick u up first if u want??????? (*▼▽▼*)

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
we can walk together (´,,•ω•,,)♡

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
It’s fine, Bokuto-san. We’ll meet at the station.

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
oh

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
sure yeah

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
obviously we’d meet there

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
sorry that was dumb

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
It’s just that my house gets a little crowded sometimes. 

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
sure yeah i understand

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
that’s cool

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Perhaps I could come to yours instead?

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
I’m sorry, that was presumptuous of me. I don’t want to intrude.

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Bokuto-san?

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
YES U CAN COME TO MINE ABSOLUTELY 

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
☆ミヾ(∇≦((ヾ(≧∇≦)〃))≧∇)ノ彡☆

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Thank you.

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
NO PROBLEM

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
◎▼◎

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
What on earth is that?

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
FOUND IT ON THE INTERNET

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
IT’S AN OWL

 **From:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**To:** Akaashi Keiji  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
◎▼◎

 **From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
Of course it is. 

**From:** Akaashi Keiji  
**To:** Bokuto Koutarou  
**Subject:** Re: HEY HEY HEY  
I’ll see you at practice, Bokuto-san.

*******

Bokuto’s room is always much neater than Akaashi expects it to be; despite having been to his house a few times, it never fails to take him by surprise. Boktuto is loud and boisterous and extremely messy on occasion, but his house, Akaashi finds, always seems to be a pleasant and calming environment. It’s quiet, clean, and conservative, and the contrast between it and its occupants is sort of fascinating. (Akaashi’s never met Bokuto’s parents, but in his mind they are as intense and impressive as he is – he can’t see how two people could raise a son like Bokuto and _not_ be.)

The walls are painted a pale, greyish-blue and the carpet, white and speckled with tiny flecks of colour, feels soft and soothing under his socked feet. The last of the afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains and brushes Bokuto’s face as he moves, towelling his damp hair – for a moment he is caught, illuminated in the dying remnants of the day, and the word _beautiful_ flickers across Akaashi’s brain before he can quite stop it.

Bokuto likes the neatness, Akaashi knows; it calms him. Since his brain is unfathomable and chaotic, having some semblance of order in his life is comforting. Akaashi takes in the bed, impeccably made, and the numerous cuddly toys tucked under the quilt (somehow the idea of Bokuto still owning a menagerie of stuffed animals at the age of almost-eighteen doesn’t seem that strange), the stack of books arranged in alphabetical order on the desk, the way not a speck of dust clings to any of the surfaces, not a sock is strewn across the softly carpeted floor. It doesn’t look like a room belonging to an ordinary teenage boy – but then, Bokuto isn’t ordinary in any sense of the word. He insisted on carrying Akaashi’s bag and getting him extra water after practice, attending to him in such a gentlemanly manner that Akaashi almost felt for a moment as though he was the one being subjected to a seven-day dating fantasy. (He doesn’t particularly like to use that word, but in all honesty the whole thing does feel completely fantastical, and he keeps having to remind himself it’s real.) In return he made Bokuto shower first, opting to sit on the edge of the bed and pluck at the soft covers and wonder which of Bokuto’s stuffed owls is his favourite. He gets up as Bokuto returns, bundling his school uniform into a ball and heading towards the bathroom with it.

“Oh,” says Bokuto, sounding slightly crestfallen. Akaashi stops and turns, confused.

“Oh?” he echoes.

“You’re wearing your uniform?” Bokuto inquires somewhat delicately.

“Well, yeah,” Akaashi says. “I don’t have anything else.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Bokuto says immediately, in that quick, rambling, strangely nervous way that only ever comes out when he’s feeling guilty or embarrassed about something. “Obviously you’re wearing your uniform. Stupid – I just thought –”

“What, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi frowns, and Bokuto stops and stares at him like a rabbit caught in headlights.

“I thought – well – I thought maybe you could – could borrow something of mine.” The end of the sentence is mumbled and indistinct, but Akaashi catches it perfectly. He almost wishes he hadn’t. The thought of wearing somebody else’s clothes – _Bokuto’s_ clothes – next to his skin feels unnervingly intimate all of a sudden. The thought of breathing in the scent of Bokuto’s detergent, of pulling a slightly oversized shirt over his head with the knowledge that Bokuto has felt exactly the same swathe of cotton under his fingers, adjusted exactly the same collar around his neck – it’s so small, yet so _much_. Maybe too much – he can’t tell how he’d feel about it, and he knows it would be wrong to let himself get in even deeper. 

“That’s really not necessary,” he says, but as he turns away he catches sight of Bokuto in the mirror. He’s looking at the floor, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks, and there’s an air not just of defeat about him – Akaashi could handle that, he’s used to Bokuto’s mood swings – but of genuine hurt and astonishment. 

He feels like he’s just kicked a puppy.

Taking a deep breath, he bridges the gap between them and puts his hand on Bokuto’s arm. Bokuto jumps at the touch, but he only looks surprised, not angry or upset.

“What I mean is, I don’t like to impose,” Akaashi says, “but if you’re offering…”

“I am!” Bokuto shouts, suddenly his overenthusiastic self again. “I am offering!”

“That would be nice.” Akaashi can’t hide a smile as Bokuto strides eagerly over to his wardrobe and begins sifting through shirts, deciding on one after the other before frowning and putting it back. Finally he settles on a simple white T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans he explains are a little too small for him, folds them up, and hands them over. Akaashi glances at the pile of clothes in his arms, and something catches his attention.

“Um, Bokuto-san, I don’t need to borrow your underwear.”

“Oh,” Bokuto says, eyes going wide as dinner plates. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think –”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi replies, and it is, because he knows Bokuto genuinely didn’t think twice. “I’ll go and shower now.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto says weakly, running a hand through his hair, obviously still embarrassed. “You do that.”

*******

Kuroo is talking, but Bokuto cannot hear a word he is saying.

It’s not that he doesn’t care to hear about the new game Kenma wants, or appreciate Kuroo’s terrible jokes and bad puns (and they are bad – though the faces Kenma pulls at them more than make up for it usually), and it’s not so much that he’s bad at concentrating – he’s good at concentrating when it comes to some things, like volleyball and physics and finding out which of the ice cream parlours he passes on the way to the park has the best flavour of the day written on the sandwich boards outside. In fact, he’s great at concentrating.

It’s not his fault that, right now, he’s kind of distracted.

The jeans, Akaashi explained, were a little too big on his hips, even with a belt, so he elected to wear his school trousers instead – but the shirt he emerged from the bathroom in was Bokuto’s, and the way it hung on him, long and loose, the collar pulling a little to the side and exposing the dip of his clavicle, almost killed Bokuto then and there. He felt his whole body heat up. He was staring, he _knew_ he was staring, and he knew from the way Akaashi blushed under the scrutiny and raised one eyebrow that _he_ knew.

“Bokuto-san,” he said, after a solid thirty seconds of total silence, “should we be going now?”

Bokuto jumped. “Yes!” he cried, finally tearing his eyes away from the hollow of Akaashi’s throat (and _definitely not_ thinking about what it would be like to kiss him there). He started running round gathering things, trying to remember how to breathe, and thinking that it really was too hot in this damn room all of a sudden.

Maybe it would go away, he thought, whatever he was feeling right then – maybe it was simply because they were in such close proximity that his heart was beating like it was trying to escape his ribcage. Maybe once they were out in the open, in the fresh air, with Kuroo and Kenma, maybe his pulse would slow and he’d remember how to spell his own name.

It hasn’t gone away. Akaashi’s walking a few paces ahead of him, with Kenma, and although Bokuto can only see the back of him, he can’t seem to calm down. He would be willing to admit, if pressganged at knife point perhaps, that yes, okay, fine, _maybe_ he has thought about what Akaashi might look like wearing his clothes and maybe his reasons for taking full advantage when the opportunity presented itself weren’t _entirely_ wholesome, but he feels he’s had more than his just deserts. He really wasn’t prepared for how attractive Akaashi looks in his clothes, and he feels a bit like he’s being punished for something.

It’s ridiculous, he knows, to get so caught up in little details that don’t matter. Details such as, _Akaashi’s wearing my shirt_ , and, _holy shit, Akaashi looks_ so good _in my shirt_ , and, _oh my god I can’t believe Akaashi is_ actually wearing my shirt, and, _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Once he gets that shirt back, he’s never washing it again. He doesn’t care if that’s gross.

“Is Akaashi wearing your shirt?” Kuroo says after a minute, taking absolutely no pains whatsoever to keep his voice down. Bokuto watches Akaashi flush bright pink from his neck to the tips of his ears and _oh god_ , he could die.

He settles for punching Kuroo, quite hard, on the arm instead.

“Ow,” Kuroo protests.

“Keep your voice down,” Bokuto hisses. After a moment he grins and ducks his head closer to Kuroo’s and adds, “Doesn’t he look amazing?”

“Sure,” Kuroo shrugs, sounding unconvinced.

“He does!” Bokuto insists, but Kuroo’s not listening, staring hard at Akaashi’s back and frowning. Bokuto nudges him.

“What?”

“Stop staring at my boyfriend.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “He’s not your –” 

But he stops and fixes Bokuto with a weird look, like the face he makes when he realises a joke he’s made has gone too far, or how he looked that time he recruited Bokuto to help him bake a cake for Kenma’s birthday, only they forgot about it in the oven and accidentally burnt it to a crisp. Like he’s… _sad_ or something. Bokuto can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Never mind,” Kuroo mutters, and strides off to join Kenma.

“He _is_ my boyfriend,” Bokuto mumbles, scuffing the toe of his shoe along the pavement. They _are_ boyfriends, and he _will_ make Akaashi fall for him, he tells himself – although he has to admit he’s running out of time and he still doesn’t have a cohesive plan (or even an _un_ -cohesive plan, come to think of it). But he’ll find a way. 

No matter what Kuroo says.

  
*******

They’ve been at the arcade about an hour when Kuroo announces he’s going to get snacks.

“Akaashi, come help me?” he asks.

“I’ll go!” Bokuto volunteers, before Akaashi can even open his mouth.

Akaashi glances at Kuroo and then Bokuto, who has become increasingly fidgety in the last hour and is probably in greater need of some fresh air and an opportunity to stretch his legs than he is, and he doesn’t really have any inclination to leave the dim, air-conditioned arcade for the noise and humidity of the midsummer evening outside.

But Kuroo shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “If you come you’ll make me buy loads of random shit you’ll decide you don’t even like. Akaashi will actually help.”

Akaashi wants to be proud that Kuroo trusts his judgement enough to ask for his assistance, but it’s very obvious that Kuroo doesn’t actually want his help – he wants to get him alone. Ever since he met Bokuto at the station this morning, he’s been unable to shake the feeling that Kuroo’s tailing him like a bloodhound, waiting for an opportunity to corner him, and then – 

And then _what?_

He’s fairly certain it’s something to do with Bokuto, but he doesn’t know what exactly. He and Kuroo only went out for a week, last year, and he doesn’t think he gave enough away that Kuroo could have figured out his current dilemma – he’s always made sure not to bring up Misaki or his sister. In fact, most of that week, Akaashi recalls, was spent convincing Kuroo that yes, Kenma most likely did like him back and no, even if he didn’t he probably wouldn’t get weird enough about it to let it ruin their friendship. On the whole, Kuroo took very little interest in Akaashi’s dating history, so he doesn’t see what he could be taking issue with – only that he most definitely is taking issue with something. Of course, it’s possible that Kuroo could have worked his situation out. It’s not implausible – after all, what else would lead a sixteen year old boy to date anyone who asked him for a week, but only a week, and expect to fall in love in that time? Half the time _he_ doesn’t know why he’s doing it, only that if he were to pass up the opportunity to meet someone inspiring and wonderful and captivating enough to distract him from everything to do with Misaki and finally have some peace in his life he’d never forgive himself. That if he were to give up now, he might never find them. 

In truth, it probably wouldn’t take a genius to figure out his reasoning, and Kuroo is far from stupid. 

“Akaashi?” Kuroo’s raising a questioning eyebrow, and he realises belatedly that Bokuto is also staring. 

He nods. “Of course I’ll help, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and Akaashi’s insides turn to water.

“Thanks.”

Outside, they walk in silence for a while. The muggy air is stifling, and Akaashi opens his mouth to speak a few times, only to find he has nothing to say; Kuroo’s presence is intimidating and he doesn’t seem interested in small talk. Akaashi waits until they’re under the bright fluorescent lights of a mercifully air-conditioned convenience store, idly wandering the aisles, before he decides that if Kuroo won’t say anything, he has to confront the situation head on.

“Kuroo-san,” he says, doing his best to keep his tone measured and even, “was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Hm?” Kuroo looks up from a box of Pocky in surprise, and for a moment Akaashi thinks he might have got the whole thing completely twisted, but then Kuroo shrugs, replaces the box on the shelf, and says, “Actually, yeah.”

“Okay.”

Kuroo looks him up and down, slightly appraisingly, and Akaashi tries hard not to let himself shiver under the weight of his gaze. Eventually, Kuroo says, “Why did you agree to date me?”

Akaashi is surprised; his response tumbles out of his mouth, unfiltered. “You asked me.”

Kuroo’s eyes narrow. “That was why you went out with me? Because I _asked_ you?”

Kuroo is wandering from aisle to aisle, picking things up and putting them down again with a kind of nonchalant indifference that only serves to put Akaashi further on edge. Finally, he stops and turns to Akaashi.

“You know I only asked you because I wanted to see if Kenma actually cared, right?”

“Yes, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi replies, weary and tense. “I know. I knew that before.”

“That’s not why Bokuto asked you.”

Akaashi starts. 

“What – I –” What on earth is Kuroo talking about? “Of course that’s not – he’s not in love with Kenma-kun.”

Kuroo smirks. “Not that I know,” he mutters, and the thought is enough to make Akaashi smile too, and then they’re both laughing, somehow, and though he still has no idea what the hell is going on, by the time they stop, wearily wiping their eyes, the tension seems to have dissipated a little.

Kuroo claps a hand on his shoulder. “You know,” he says, “I really like you, Akaashi. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t,” Akaashi promises, with more certainty than he feels. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt Bokuto-san.”

Kuroo smiles.

“Good,” he says lightly. “Because if you do, I’ll kill you.”

It’s the last thing he says to Akaashi all evening.

*******

“So… what did Kuroo want?” Bokuto asks later, when they’ve left the others at the station and are on their way back to Akaashi’s house (Bokuto having insisted on walking him home). 

Akaashi shrugs. “Some advice.”

“Advice?”

“About Kenma-kun,” he lies easily. 

Bokuto nods, seemingly taken in. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto nods again. “I mean, you’ve dated a lot of people, so…”

“So?”

“So, I guess you’d be good at giving dating advice.”

Akaashi laughs quietly. “Perhaps,” he agrees. “I’m terrible at taking it, though.”

Bokuto chuckles too. “That’s because you don’t need it,” he says.

“Everyone needs advice about something, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi argues, but Bokuto simply shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. “Not you – you’re smart. Not like me.”

Akaashi stops and turns to look at Bokuto, who is standing under a streetlamp, lit by the faint orange glow. He looks plain, slightly abashed, not like he did in his bedroom earlier in the afternoon, but there’s still something about him that makes Akaashi’s chest hurt, his stomach flutter, his hands itch to reach out and touch.

Instead he frowns and asks, “What makes you think you’re not smart?”

Bokuto shrugs, staring at the ground. “I dunno,” he mumbles, scuffing his shoe on the curb, “I’m just…”

“You’re a genius.”

Bokuto looks up, startled. 

“You’re a genius,” Akaashi says again, feeling his cheeks heat up to match the flush creeping into Bokuto’s own cheeks. It feels embarrassing, telling him something like this – even though it’s an opinion he’s privately held for some time – but Bokuto doesn’t hear it very often, at least from him, at least unprompted, and it’s something Akaashi thinks he ought to know. “The first time I saw you play, I was… dumbstruck. I thought I couldn’t possibly keep up with someone like you, I couldn’t possibly give you the kinds of tosses you needed. I knew I was good at what I did, I knew I had talent – but you were incredible.”

Bokuto’ eyes are wide; Akaashi’s half-expecting to be engulfed in a rib-crushing hug, but Bokuto just looks down again, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck, and scuffs his shoe on the ground again. 

“Thanks, Akaashi,” he murmurs, very quietly.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiles. “For tonight, for lending me your shirt, for –” _For asking me to do this_ , he wants to say. _For giving me seven days._

Seven days should be long enough for a dream, shouldn’t it?

“You can keep it,” Bokuto says.

“What?”

“Uh, the shirt,” Bokuto clarifies, grinning a little. “If you –”

“That won’t be necessary, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi tells him hurriedly. “I’ll wash it and return it to you tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Bokuto says. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Uh, thanks.”

“I should, um –” He gestures vaguely towards the path that leads to his house. Bokuto springs into action immediately.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he says, suddenly bright-eyed and eager, but Akaashi’s mind is suddenly fixed on whether or not Juri might be home, whether Misaki is there, playing scenes of Bokuto running into either of them and finding out the truth and he holds up a hand instinctively.

“No,” he blurts out.

“But –”

“Here is fine, Bokuto-san. Thank you for a nice evening.”

He bows, stiff and formal, and then walks away briskly, not daring to look back in case Bokuto is still there, watching, or even taking it upon himself to follow. He makes it home unassailed, however, and the house is mercifully quiet when he enters. 

He goes straight up to his room and changes into pyjamas before remembering he promised to return Bokuto’s shirt next morning. He picks it up and heads back downstairs to the utility room, intending to put it straight in the washing machine – but as he does so, screws it up into a ball between his fists, he catches a last hint of Bokuto’s scent, the scent he’s been wearing all evening – fresh cotton and talc and just a trace of musky aftershave – and he buries his face in soft cotton, unaware of how strange this might be, uncaring, suddenly afraid that he might never get to breathe in this aroma again; that he might wake up tomorrow, or next Monday, and find that this was all just some strange, captivating, wonderful dream, fading faster almost than he can comprehend that it _was_ a dream. His thoughts are scattered; this should simply be another of his seven day dates, and seven days is surely long enough – but even so, it should be Bokuto’s dream, not his – not _him_ wishing there were some way he could prolong this, not _him_ thinking that with only two days down and five yet to go, it still somehow doesn’t feel like enough.

But if it isn't his dream... why does he feel so reluctant to wake up?


	4. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not as though people haven’t tried to kiss him before, of course, but he’s always, always rejected them, always made an effort not to even touch the person he’s dating unless he absolutely has to, lest lines become blurred and misunderstandings caused. He tries not to hurt anyone’s feelings unnecessarily. 
> 
> The trouble is, if Bokuto had kissed him, he’s not sure he would have pulled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I wanted to update sooner but lots of things got in the way... I hope the January blues aren't hitting everyone too hard - and if they are, I hope some disgusting, pining volleyball nerds will help ease them.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you SO much for all the lovely comments and kudos - they warm my heart and I love you all!!
> 
> P.S. I hope this chapter is okay!!! Wednesday is definitely the best chapter in the manga so I hope I did it justice.

Akaashi’s waiting for him at the station again next morning, leaning against the ticket barrier and looking so attractive it’s almost deadly. He smiles when he spots Bokuto, and Bokuto’s heart does somersaults in his chest.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he grins, sauntering over to Akaashi’s spot, barely giving a thought to Kuroo and Kenma behind him. He has a feeling he might have abandoned Kuroo halfway through a conversation but right now he can’t remember what they were even talking about (so it mustn’t have been that important) and as much as he loves Kuroo, nothing Kuroo says or does will ever be as important as Akaashi leaning against a ticket barrier and looking so attractive it’s almost deadly. Bokuto doesn’t even know how he _does_ it.

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi greets him as politely as ever, but Bokuto thinks there’s a little more warmth in his voice than usual, and when he turns to say hello to Kuroo and Kenma something about his manner is ever so slightly different – not _cold_ , not really – but he never seems to relax around them the way he does around Bokuto. The thought makes Bokuto grin and puff out his chest with pride.

“I didn’t know this was gonna be a regular thing,” he says, nudging Akaashi playfully. “I thought you were just being – uh, what was the word?”

“Ridiculous?” Kuroo supplies.

“Spontaneous,” Akaashi deadpans. “I believe that was the word I used.”

“Yeah!” Bokuto cries. “Spontaneous!”

Akaashi shrugs. “I woke earlier than usual, so I thought I might as well meet you here. I thought perhaps we could walk to school together this week.” And then he looks away, weirdly shy all of a sudden. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to!” Bokuto yelps – in what universe would he not want to spend extra time with Akaashi every day? He’s starting to think that even if they spent all their days and nights together for the rest of their lives it probably wouldn’t be enough. “Yeah, I – I’ll walk with you.” He turns and flashes Kuroo a grin. “See ya later, alligator.”

“What’s this?” Kuroo cries, pretending to be outraged. “I’m being abandoned?”

“That’s rude,” Kenma mutters, eyes fixed firmly on his phone. 

“No,” Bokuto sighs, “you’re supposed to say, ‘In a while, cr–’”

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “In a while, crocodile,” he huffs. Bokuto laughs and Kuroo punches him on the shoulder before turning and ruffling Kenma’s hair, an apparent indication to follow him to the escalators. Bokuto watches them go, shaking his head and grinning.

“Kuroo-san is very caring,” Akaashi says quietly as they exit the station.

Bokuto laughs again. “Nah, that’s just Kenma. He has that effect on everybody.”

Akaashi smiles slightly, but his pensive expression remains. “I think Kuroo-san cares about his friends a great deal, not just Kenma-kun.”

Bokuto raises his eyebrows.

“Especially you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi tells him, dead serious. “He’s very protective of you.”

Bokuto frowns. What the hell does _that_ mean? “Did he do the whole ‘break his heart and I’ll break your face’ thing?” he jokes, trying to laugh it off, but Akaashi just hums thoughtfully, as though he’s trying to solve a difficult equation but isn’t sure how to go about it.

“Something like that.”

“Listen,” he says, “Kuroo’s kind of a dick sometimes. He says stuff to – scare people or whatever, but he doesn’t mean it. Honestly, he doesn’t even like killing mosquitoes, not unless Kenma’s around and then you can’t see him for bug spray cos Kenma doesn’t like them and he’ll do _anything_ –”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi interrupts, and to Bokuto’s surprise he sounds kind of amused, “I’m not afraid of Kuroo-san.”

“Well, you still call him ‘Kuroo-san’, so I beg to differ,” Bokuto counters, and Akaashi laughs – actually _laughs_ and the sound is so pure and unexpected and wonderful Bokuto almost has a heart attack right there, in the middle of the street.

“I respect him,” Akaashi says. “That doesn’t mean I’m afraid of him.”

“Does that mean you respect me?” Bokuto grins, nudging him in the side.

He’s expecting a sigh, a roll of the eyes, maybe an insincere, _Yes, Bokuto-san._ But Akaashi just gives him a funny look.

“Of course I respect you,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Bokuto fidgets, suddenly uncomfortable. “Well... lots of people don’t, I guess?” he offers.

Akaashi’s eyes narrow. “You’re far more respected than you think, Bokuto-san. You shouldn’t put yourself down.” 

“I don’t,” Bokuto protests, squirming slightly. “I _know_ I’m good, it’s just – a lot of people see me as this – this kid whose team has to watch him all the time and I’m _not_ –”

He feels cool hands on his shoulders, but it takes him a second or two to actually register that they’re Akaashi’s hands, Akaashi is _touching him_ , and it’s such a shock that he almost flinches away immediately. By some miracle, he manages not to, although his heart starts beating rapidly and his chest feels suddenly tight.

“You’re the captain, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi reminds him, almost unbearably gentle, “for a reason. You’re the team’s ace for a reason. We all know what you can do and we trust you to do it. _I_ trust you.”

Bokuto’s heart hammers against his ribcage, so hard he thinks it might burst out of his chest. He suddenly feels very emotional, and he turns away before he can do anything embarrassing, like cry or try to kiss Akaashi.

“C’mon,” he mumbles, “we’re gonna be late.”

Akaashi smiles. “Yes, captain,” he says. 

*******

Practice goes reasonably well, despite the fact that Bokuto appears a little flustered for some reason, and it puts Akaashi in a good enough mood that he decides ask him to eat lunch together.

Bokuto huffs a surprised laugh. “Are you for real?”

Akaashi frowns. “What?”

“You walked me to school, we went to practice together, and now you wanna eat lunch with me too?” Bokuto shakes his head, grinning widely – but it’s the type of smile Akaashi can’t make out, and for all he’s perceptive and attuned to Bokuto’s behaviour, in that instant he has absolutely no idea what he’s thinking. “You really are the perfect boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Akaashi’s frown crumples into a scowl. All he wanted was to spend some time together outside of practice and away from anybody else, away from any prying eyes, interruptions, questions. Is that so bad?

“I can go away if you’d like me to,” he replies, barely trying to hide his annoyance. 

“No!” Bokuto says, too quickly, and Akaashi tries and fails to suppress the hopeful little leap in his stomach. Bokuto’s gazing up at him, his grin a little nervous now, and he looks – god, Akaashi can hardly even bring himself to think the word – _cute_. “We could, uh, go eat on the roof?” he adds, standing up and hastily grabbing his lunch box.

“I’d like that,” Akaashi tells him mildly, trying a smile. Bokuto follows him out and up to the roof like an eager little puppy, and by the time they get there Akaashi’s forgotten his former irritation. They sit on a bench looking out over the school, Bokuto babbling away about some new game Kenma’s got and how he’d let him have a go and he’d almost beaten the boss level, and Akaashi nods silently and lets the chatter wash over him, suddenly aware that he hasn’t felt quite so peaceful in a long time. Despite the fact that “loud and boisterous” seems to be his default setting, when he’s relaxed (or at least, _less_ loud and boisterous) there’s something about Bokuto’s voice that is wonderfully soothing.

“You know, you didn’t have to invite me up here.”

Akaashi turns to see Bokuto fidgeting, shoulders hunched like he’s trying to make himself physically smaller. “I mean, I get that you probably do this with other people but we see each other all the time anyway so really, you don’t have to make the effort –”

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi regards him, contemplating. It’s true, he often does eat lunch with his dates, because that’s usually the only time they get to spend together during the school day – and Bokuto’s right, they do see each other an awful lot, so in theory he should have very little reason for doing this, except – “I wanted to.”

The words are out before he’s fully aware of them. Bokuto looks at him, and his expression shifts almost imperceptibly; Akaashi can’t work it out, but it makes him feel slightly wobbly – though not uneasy. It’s like stepping on to a boat and feeling the wood dip under the weight of his foot – insecure, like he might tumble at any moment, yet all the while knowing there’s something solid underneath him, something between him and the lake. 

“Oh.” Bokuto turns his face away all of a sudden, shadow falling across it, and his shoulders slump oddly. Every instinct Akaashi has is telling him to reach out and touch, to comfort, but he doesn’t allow himself to. That would be too far, he thinks, and he’s already gone too far with this whole endeavour.

He sighs. “Bokuto-san, is something wrong?”

Bokuto’s head whips round so fast it almost makes Akaashi wince, and in a moment the quiet, troubled Bokuto has vanished, replaced by the brash, bouncy, bossy one whose only worry is that he still doesn’t know the proper kanji for “worry”. Akaashi’s beginning to wonder which one is real. 

“I’m fine, Akaashi!” he beams, as though the weird moment never happened, as though it was a dream Akaashi had, dozing off as he listened to Bokuto chatter about video games. “It’s just weird, you paying so much attention. I figured you’d have told me it was just, like, your duty to hang round with me or something, but you’re so smooth!” he adds, with a loud laugh.

 _Smooth?_ Akaashi grimaces. _Smooth_ isn’t exactly how he’d describe himself; yes, maybe he goes on of dates and yes, maybe he tries to be attentive and kind and engaging, because everybody deserves a fair chance, even if he knows on sight that he won’t fall for them – but his aim has never been to reel people in like he’s collecting them. That isn’t what he wants at all.

“Of course I don’t see it as my duty,” he tells Bokuto seriously, “but – well, we _are_ dating.”

Bokuto snorts. “Yeah, right,” he says. “It’s not like anyone _believes_ us.”

Akaashi winces, but says nothing. He thinks back to the girls in the train station the other day – and realises Bokuto’s right. None of them seemed to believe Bokuto was his date for the week – even Kuroo seems to think he’s playing some sort of game – and he can’t help but wonder if the fact they’re both boys has little to do with it. He’s dated boys before, after all. Then... does his reputation precede him that much? Is this why he doesn’t ever find someone he can engage with fully – because nobody takes him seriously, nobody believes he actually wants to date them? What if _Bokuto_ thinks he’s not taking it seriously? Dating or not, he hates the thought of Bokuto thinking he doesn’t put his all into what he does. He hates the idea of him thinking he’s _lazy_.

“Is it just me,” Bokuto asks abruptly, interrupting his thoughts, “or are there more screaming girls than usual today?”

Akaashi looks up from his own lap to see Bokuto leaning casually against the railing, watching the scenes in the school yard below. He makes no move to verify Bokuto’s theory, however, simply raising an eyebrow. 

“You don’t like girls?” This is puzzling; he knows for a fact Bokuto had a girlfriend up until four days ago, although admittedly that doesn’t rule out the possibility of him discovering he’s not into them. Indeed, it could well be a reason for the relationship ending. 

Bokuto shrugs. “It’s not that I don’t like girls. It’s just… Like, if there was one person in the whole world who could love me just for me – wouldn’t that be enough?”

He turns and regards Akaashi with steady eyes. Akaashi is truly unnerved by the sudden appearance of this sharp, focused, serious Bokuto he rarely ever sees off the court, and he’s temporarily lost for words.

“That’s... admirable,” he says eventually, uncomfortably aware of his own heartbeat. “I think lots of people should follow that principle.”

Bokuto laughs at that, loud and unrestrained. “Says you!” he retorts. “Mr. Week-Long Boyfriend.”

Akaashi shrugs, allows himself to joke a little too. “Who says I’m not looking for the One? Don’t be so quick to judge.”

“It’s an efficient method,” Bokuto muses, still chuckling. “Maybe a bit _too_ efficient, though. I mean, what’s wrong with just waiting around? Unless –” He stops abruptly. Akaashi doesn’t prompt him to continue, because he has a horrible feeling he knows what Bokuto was about to say.

“Unless what?” he asks, maintaining his calm demeanour despite the spike in his heart rate. There’s no reason for Bokuto to know, no reason he _would_ know. All Akaashi has to do is remain calm and neutral and nobody has to find out.

Bokuto huffs and turns away. “Nah,” he mutters, half to himself.

Akaashi furrows his brow. “What?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bokuto says cryptically, and Akaashi has to suppress a sigh of frustration. He knows when Bokuto gets like this, contemplative and miserable for apparently no reason, the best thing is to be patient and let him work through it by himself – but it’s difficult when it so obviously isn’t related to volleyball, when he knows it has to be something personal, between them. 

“Bokuto-san, if you tell me, I might be able to help you,” he says gently, unable to keep himself from remaining completely detached. 

Bokuto says nothing for a while, and Akaashi begins to think he’s going to have to let the matter drop – but then he raises his head and looks Akaashi in the eye and mumbles, “Can I ask you something? About what you said yesterday. About – when you dated Kuroo, about having someone else on your mind.”

“Bokuto-san –”

“Please.” And he really is pleading, eyes huge and begging and full of some expression Akaashi can’t name – but if he had to, he thinks the closest thing he could come up with would be sorrow. And then he thinks, _that’s ridiculous_ , because when has Bokuto ever been _sorrowful_ about anything? He probably doesn’t have the capacity. And yet – “I need to know.”

“You don’t,” Akaashi tells him firmly. “You don’t need to know anything about that.” 

But Bokuto doesn’t relent. “Why not? Can’t you just tell me? Nobody could keep everything to themselves all the time, otherwise they’d explode! Besides,” he pushes, “aren’t we supposed to be dating, like you said? You should tell me stuff like this.”

“That is exactly the kind of thing one _shouldn’t_ talk about with one’s _date_ ,” Akaashi snaps. 

“Please, Akaashi?” Bokuto wheedles. “I’ve been thinking about it all day and I –”

“Don’t,” Akaashi interrupts, closing his eyes against Bokuto’s burning gaze. He takes a deep breath before he opens them again. “Please, Bokuto-san. Can’t this be enough?”

Even as he looks at Bokuto, as Bokuto looks back at him, he has the fleeting, tiny thought that _no, this cannot be enough_ – but he doesn’t know if that means it’s not enough for him, or Bokuto, or maybe both of them. Bokuto nods once, slowly, and Akaashi notices briefly the way his eyes glint in the sunlight, the subtle tan line where his shirt collar brushes against his neck, the way he’s slowly but very definitely leaning forward with an unreadable expression on his face, the way he looks, Akaashi thinks again, _beautiful_ –

The bell for the end of lunch sounds very loudly, and Bokuto jumps, clearly startled; his eyes go suddenly wide.

“Crap!” he cries, hands flying up to his cheeks. “I have to change classrooms for sixth period. I forgot!”

Akaashi doesn’t know what to say – he’s still reeling slightly from the shock of what he _thinks_ was an almost-kiss – so he settles for, “Oh.”

“All my stuff – I need –”

There’s a sudden bout of noisy throat-clearing from behind them; they both whip round to see Shirofuku standing in the doorway, chin tilted slightly, red hair swinging and a wide grin on her face. She holds Bokuto’s bag in one hand, his blazer and a textbook in the other. 

“Oi, Bird Boy, you forgot something.”

Akaashi is relieved – though he’d rather none of the team, including the managers, knew about him and Bokuto, he’s glad that it’s her and not someone else, unused to Bokuto’s antics. At least she’ll ask fewer questions about why he looks so flushed and excitable.

Bokuto charges towards her, arms outstretched, and she barely has time to react before he’s swept her off her feet, quite literally, in a giant hug, spinning and twirling around with gay abandon. It’s all she can do to yelp in surprise. 

“Get off me, you big oaf!”

“Yukie-san, thank you so much!” Bokuto cries. “I love you!”

Akaashi coughs. They both pause, heads turning to look at him.

“Bokuto-san,” he says seriously, though he can’t help a small smile – Bokuto, for all he is ridiculous, is incredibly endearing. “That’s cheating, you know.”

Bokuto drops Shirofuku like she’s made of lava, and she lands straight on her butt. Akaashi winces.

“Ow! Watch it, bird brain!” she whines indignantly, glaring at Bokuto, who is making an odd gesture – something between bowing and shaking his head frantically – and babbling, “Yes, no, not good, no cheating!” as though possessed. 

Shirofuku looks between them, confused and clearly suspicious, but luckily she doesn’t seem to put two and two together. In the end she simply sighs and stands up, hauling Bokuto (who has calmed down somewhat, but only by Bokuto standards) off to their next class with a casual, “See you later, Akaashi,” thrown over her shoulder as she leaves. 

Akaashi doesn’t move for a minute or two. He knows he can’t afford to stay unless he wants to explain in front of everyone why he’s late to class, but his legs feel like lead all of a sudden and his thoughts are a tangled mess. He’s certain Bokuto was about to kiss him, and that’s worrying for all the wrong reasons. It’s not as though people haven’t tried to kiss him before, of course, but he’s always, always rejected them, always made an effort not to even touch the person he’s dating unless he absolutely has to, lest lines become blurred and misunderstandings caused. He tries not to hurt anyone’s feelings unnecessarily. 

The trouble is, if Bokuto had kissed him, he’s not sure he would have pulled away. 

It concerns him, the certain lack of self-control he’s developed around Bokuto. It’s like Bokuto’s complete disregard for things like cause and effect rubs off on him, and he finds himself doing things just because he wants to, without thinking about the consequences – or rather, thinking about the consequences and shrugging them off anyway, as though not caring meant they might not come true. Why did he agree to make Bokuto his date in the first place? He knew things would become messy and difficult, he knew this could potentially harm their friendship, could even hurt the entire team – and yet he found himself saying yes anyway. Because somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knows, he wanted this to happen – maybe not in this way, maybe this is the worst way it could possibly have happened – but he wanted it, all the same. Perhaps in an alternate timeline, if alternate timelines do exist, there is an Akaashi Keiji who was sensible by nature, who became cautious within reason before experience made him so; who never kissed his sister’s girlfriend, who never dated her afterwards; who harboured a secret crush and then let it go because that is what one is supposed to do in the face of unrequited love. Perhaps that Akaashi Keiji discovered his feelings for his teammate in a natural way, when he wasn’t so messed up, so caught in his own head, when he wasn’t torn up over two people and too afraid of everything to confess. And perhaps that Akaashi Keiji is now dating his teammate in an ordinary way – perhaps they are even an ordinary couple, and perhaps, once or twice a day, he allows himself to be happy.

Perhaps. He sighs, though not wistfully, and drags himself back to class.

*******

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto stops walking and turns to him, eyes wide and alert and he’d look almost comical if the leaden weight in Akaashi’s chest wasn’t stopping him from thinking of anything as funny right now. They’re on the edge of a little park near the metro, one he passes sometimes on the way back from practice, if Bokuto’s invited him home. It was undoubtedly filled with people enjoying the sunshine a few hours ago but now, as the sky turns to red and pink and dusk, it is all but abandoned.

He gestures at a bench and starts towards it. He doesn’t turn to make sure Bokuto follows, but the sound of his footsteps seconds later confirm that he’s right behind.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto waits until they’re sitting before prompting him, though by then Akaashi’s almost lost his nerve and decided that he doesn’t really need to talk about this after all.

“Bokuto-san,” he says again, and Bokuto nods like he understands, even though he can’t possibly, and somehow it’s reassuring. “What you asked me about earlier… I think it’s only fair that I tell you.”

“Oh.” Bokuto sounds mildly surprised. “Okay.”

Every rational bone in his body is telling him to keep his mouth shut, to say, _Actually, forget it_ ; his instinct should be to run away. But despite his fears of what Bokuto will think, he _wants_ to open up; he knows it might alter his impression of him forever and not for the better, but he also knows it’s the only way to lighten this weight pressing down on him. Sometimes it feels as though Misaki tied a heavy stone around his heart, and he’s beginning to realise he can’t shift it on his own.

He takes a deep breath.

“Bokuto-san, the way I... meet people isn’t a game and I don’t want you think it is.”

“I don’t –”

“I take this as seriously as I would take anything. That’s why it – _this_ –” he gestures between them – “is so... complicated. Because –”

“I get it,” Bokuto interrupts cheerfully. “Because we’re teammates, right? I know.”

“No, Bokuto-san,” he sighs. “You don’t.”

Bokuto turns to him and puts a warm hand over his own, cold, shaking, balled – he didn’t even realise – into a fist. The touch is gentle, surprising. “So tell me.”

On a creaky wooden bench in a nondescript park in the middle of Tokyo, Akaashi finds himself, finally, telling Bokuto everything.

“There was a girl,” he begins, and then stops because _no, that’s not right._ “I mean, there still is.”

“O _ho_ ,” Bokuto grins. “I thought there might be.”

“You figured it out.” 

Bokuto shrugs. “Why else would you do something completely weird like dating literally anyone who asked you for only seven days at a time?” he says genially. “I’ve been thinking and I figured there’s only one probable explanation.”

Akaashi shakes his head. “Bokuto-san, you’re too smart for your own good.”

“No such thing,” Bokuto declares, and Akaashi somehow manages to laugh; for half a second they sit in companionable silence, and it could be any other day, any ordinary moment between them – but then Bokuto nudges him and says, “So. About this girl...” and Akaashi’s back to feeling sick with anticipation.

“This girl,” he begins again, hesitantly, because he’s painfully aware of how awful this is going to sound, and yet it’s still not enough that he stops himself – rather, the opposite; he feels as though something inside him is pushing, straining against his ribs and his stomach and his lungs, desperate to be outside his body, in the open air, no longer festering within. “This girl was my sister’s first girlfriend. When I was thirteen, my sister brought her home for the first time, and when I was fourteen she – when I was fourteen she kissed me.”

“Woah,” Bokuto murmurs. Akaashi feels as though he’s been winded, but he keeps going because he’s only just beginning to realise what a huge relief it is to tell _somebody_ , no matter who, after all this time. 

“Misaki said Juri wouldn’t find out, but... of course, she did. They broke up and Juri refused to speak to me for a long time because of what I’d done. I don’t blame her, because after that I did something even worse.”

Bokuto leans forward on the bench beside him. “What?” he breathes, like they’re kids telling ghost stories, and Akaashi would give anything for that to be the truth – at least then he wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that his story is real.

He tenses. “I dated her. My sister’s ex-girlfriend.” He swallows. “For four months.”

“Woah,” Bokuto says again. “Four months – that’s pretty solid.” He pauses – Akaashi knows without looking that his forehead is crinkled in a pensive frown. “So what happened? Why did you…?”

“Nothing interesting,” Akaashi shrugs, because as much as he can recall, the disintegration of their relationship was far from soap opera material. “We just... fell apart. We were too young – I was fifteen when we broke up – and I suppose we didn’t know how to deal with each other. If we hurt one another, we wouldn’t say anything. We didn’t know how to communicate properly, and eventually we stopped talking altogether. 

“And I don’t think we ever saw each other as we really were. I thought she was some kind of goddess, or something, and she wanted me to be older than I was. I was too young for her.” He looks away. “I’ve always been too young for her.”

“You talk like it wasn’t only a year ago,” Bokuto says softly, and Akaashi smiles.

“It feels like a lifetime, Bokuto-san,” he says. “Perhaps it was – perhaps that’s why I’m being punished now.”

“Punished?”

“For being so selfish.”

“You’re not selfish,” Bokuto objects. “You’re the least selfish person I know.”

Akaashi huffs a laugh. “That’s hardly true.” He looks up, for the first time since he began speaking. Bokuto has a strange expression on his face – ponderous, nothing like the shock and contempt he feared. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san. You must be very disappointed to hear something like this about me.”

“No,” Bokuto says hurriedly. “No, not – not disappointed.” He bites his lip and stares at his knees, suddenly seeming troubled. “I’m glad you told me. And I don’t think you should blame yourself anymore.”

Akaashi frowns. “Bokuto-san –”

“No.” Bokuto fixes him with a piercing stare and it’s almost, almost too much. Akaashi finds it difficult to breathe all of a sudden; he can feel his heart thumping in his chest, and he wonders stupidly, fleetingly, whether Bokuto can hear it too. “I’m not saying you _weren’t_ to blame – I don’t think what you did was right. But it wasn’t _only_ you, was it, and she’s older, she should have known better. I mean, you should have known better too, but –” He shakes his head, quick. “No – what I mean is – you’re not that person anymore, Akaashi. Maybe you did some pretty shitty things in the past, but you’ve tried to make up for them, right? And I know you, you’re _not_ selfish.”

“Bokuto-san –”

“I talked to Kuroo,” Bokuto continues, as though he’s on a mission to match the length of Akaashi’s speech twofold. “Last night, when I went home. He told me about when you went out. He said even though he felt guilty because he was never really serious about it, you didn’t hold it against him and you helped him figure out how to ask out Kenma. I think – you take it so seriously, and yet you wasted a whole week on him... I don’t think that’s selfish.” He looks away, suddenly back to the strange, shy Bokuto Akaashi can’t make out. “I think you’re amazing. Really amazing. I mean that, okay? You’re brilliant and I –” 

He stops.

“Bokuto-san?”

“I want you to know that,” Bokuto says, with another odd little shake of the head.

Akaashi stares, lost for words. Silence falls, soft, all around them, and they look at each other for what seems like eternity. Bokuto looks up, his gaze full of an intensity that sends adrenaline coursing through Akaashi’s veins – and then he closes his eyes. 

It takes Akaashi a moment to process, but by the time he realises what it is Bokuto wants he’s leaning forward anyway, hands reaching out of their own accord to grip strong shoulders before common sense can stop him. He closes his eyes at the last minute, and then his lips brush against Bokuto’s, and the rest of the world melts into nothing.

*******

It’s almost dark by the time he gets home, and he’s surprised to find Juri leaning against the kitchen counter when he sneaks in through the back door. For a moment they stare at one another, Akaashi stuck for words.

“I thought you weren’t coming home this week,” he says eventually.

Juri ignores him. “You were out late,” she comments, eyebrows raised.

He shrugs. “Practice ran over.”

Juri snorts. “Bullshit.”

Akaashi balks a little because it’s not entirely bullshit – he _did_ have practice, and Bokuto _did_ insist on staying behind for a while (even if they did linger slightly longer than necessary on the way home). But he knows he’s not fooling Juri one bit, and in the end he decides it’s better to roll his eyes in a silent admission and let her draw her own conclusions.

“Are you still dating people?”

Akaashi sighs. “Do you care?” he asks flatly.

Juri fixes him with a look that is almost sympathetic – _almost_ , could be in any other context, any situation but theirs.

“I know what you’re doing,” she tells him, with that unnerving perceptiveness he forgets she possesses. “It won’t work.”

“What won’t?”

“This stupid dating-people-for-seven-days thing,” Juri says, fidgeting. She drops her gaze, refusing to meet his eye, but her tone is firm. “It won’t work, believe me.”

Akaashi frowns. “How would you know?” he asks lightly.

“Because I’ve done it, okay? I’ve had god knows how many flings and one night stands and cliché coffee shop dates and believe me, it doesn’t work because _you can’t forget her_.”

The room is silent for a moment or two, and then Juri looks up and regards him with a quiet scrutiny. Akaashi can feel himself blushing under her gaze. 

“You can’t move on from her, no matter how hard you try. And it’s not fair to drag other people into this. It’s enough of a mess as it is.”

He looks at her, long and wondering, and thinks about how much of Juri he must have missed in two years, how much of his sister he’s been shut away from or forgotten or never bothered to learn. How much of her he doesn’t know – how much of her he might never get the chance to. 

“I’m not playing games,” he says quietly, careful not to sound guilty.

“I never said you were,” Juri retorts. “I only said it doesn’t matter.”

She turns away and makes to leave, and as Akaashi watches her go he suddenly remembers the promise he made two days ago.

“Juri –”

She cuts him off. “I’m tired, Keiji, okay? I’m going to bed.”

“Why did you break up with her, this time?” he presses, and her hand freezes on the door handle. He decides to push his luck. “If it’s impossible to move on from her, why put yourself through that? You must know she loves you,” he adds, more tentative.

There’s a pause. Juri slumps, shoulders hunching. She looks so small and defeated, and for a moment he wishes he could take the question back.

“Because sometimes it’s harder to stay.” She doesn’t turn around. “It’s fucking soul-destroying loving someone you _know_ is eventually going to slip away from you.”

He frowns. “I don’t understand.”

She does look at him then, gives a shaky, humourless laugh.

“No, Keiji,” she tells him. “You don’t.”

She shuts the door behind her, leaving him alone in the bright whiteness of the kitchen, with only the quiet hum of the refrigerator to break the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u never realise how much you use italics until you're html editing

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me about how much you love bokuto ~ bohemianraspberries.tumblr.com


End file.
